


Tell Me, All-Seeing Magic 8-Ball

by vrepit_nah



Series: KlanceTropeMonth (2020) [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Confident Keith (Voltron), Crack Treated Seriously, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Light Petting, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Smart Lance (Voltron), Soft Keith/Lance (Voltron), Teasing, Tired Keith (Voltron), playing with hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24821107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vrepit_nah/pseuds/vrepit_nah
Summary: When the Paladins encounter the Altean version of a Magic 8-Ball, Keith takes it upon himself to ask a serious question.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: KlanceTropeMonth (2020) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762543
Comments: 7
Kudos: 319





	Tell Me, All-Seeing Magic 8-Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I wish I could've used the Magic 8-Ball for more shenanigans, but man was I stressed. If anyone wants to make a larger fic out of this for Klance, be my guest (and tell me when you post it because I wanna read)

Lance leans over the couch where Hunk and Pidge are huddling together, and he quickly plucks the object they were staring. “What’s this?” He asks, studying the item and ignoring Pidge’s cry of outrage. It was round and dark green with a small screen attached to its surface. The screen shows a strange symbol on it.

Pidge tries to snatch it back. “Give it back! I found it first!”

It only makes Lance step away further and Hunk is holding Pidge from tackling him to the ground. “What does this mean? Looks like a Magic 8-Ball.”

Pidge finally rests her struggling and slumps on the long couch in the lounge. She is still glaring. “It is. Well, the Altean version of it, anyway. Found it when I was rummaging for spare parts.”

Lance makes an inquisitive sound. “No wonder the symbol looks familiar. It’s Altean for no, right?”

Hunk perks up. “It actually means ‘not in your lifetime,’ but I guess the short version is ‘no.’”

“Harsh. And what was the question?”

Pidge and Hunk both turn silent, eyes averting.

Lance’s brow quirks up. “Is it something dirty? Is that why you’re blushing? Two of our resident innocents going to the dark side, eh?”

“No!” Pidge snaps, flushing red furiously. It earns a snort from the Cuban, who is tossing the ball up and catching it. “We—we just…”

A distressed sound comes from Hunk and when Lance turns to him, he sees Hunk making a ‘ _stop, cut it out’_ motion at Pidge. He quickly puts his hand down and pretends he didn’t do it.

The door slides open and Keith walks in, without his jacket on, and he eyes the ball in Lance’s hand. “Needed a replacement, or trying to compensate for none?” He asks, smirking.

The others stare at him quizzically and Keith’s eyes flicker from the ball in Lance’s hand to the crotch of his pants and Pidge and Hunk burst out laughing as Lance glowers.

“I have ba—” Lance stops short, eyes wide and face burning as Keith stifles a laugh. “Fuck you, Keith.”

Keith only shrugs smugly, bumping playfully into Lance as he walks past to throw himself on an adjacent couch. He props himself on his elbows and stares up at Lance. “What does it do?”

Pidge tosses a tablet that has translations of phrases form Altean to English. Keith skims through it as she explains the Magic Ball. Finally, he puts the tablet down. “Sounds dumb.” When he looks back at Lance, the Cuban’s gaze turns to the ball in his hand.

“You’re dumb,” Lance says, biting his lip. “What kind of answers does it give?”

The teens sigh in relief when Lance drops the pressure. Hunk purses his lips. “So far, we got ‘not in your lifetime,’ ‘yes,’ ‘maybe,’ and ‘depends on the color of your socks.’”

“Huh. Why socks?”

Pidge shrugs. “We’re thinking the Alteans found socks a conduit of prediction and truth.”

Keith’s face twists into confusion. “It’s just socks. How would the ball even know what socks we’re wearing?”

“Beats us,” Hunk says, “why don’t we each ask the ball a question and see what it says? Maybe we can get more replies.”

“I’ll go first!” Lance offers. He begins shaking the ball when Pidge clears her throat. “What?”

“You’re supposed to lick it.”

Lance’s face turns red. “I’m not gonna lick it!”

“Coward,” Keith coughs into his fist and Lance whirls on him.

“I can lick b— _dammit_ , Keith!”

Another wave of laughter makes Lance pout and drop down next to Keith. He sits on Keith’s arm and the Red Paladin yelps, smacking Lance until his hand is free. “Bony ass.”

Lance snorts. “You wish you could touch my ass.”

Keith makes a _pssh_ sound and flips Lance the bird. Lance grins mischievously.

“Lick the ball, Lance,” Hunk encourages.

Lance squints at him for a split second before calling out, “you’re lying. How do I really activate this thing?”

Hunk squawks. “I’m not lying.”

“Yeah, he really isn’t,” Pidge adds.

Lance tilts his head, pauses, licks his lips. Everyone leans forward in anticipation, but instead of licking the ball, Lance asks, “okay, so which one of you licked the ball when you asked a question? And what was the question you asked that got you both so flustered?”

That gains Keith’s attention very quickly so now Pidge and Hunk are faced with two devious Paladins expecting a response.

“Pidge licked it.”

“Hunk licked it.”

The two turn to each other comically. Lance sees the second they panic before they reverse their answers simultaneously and it causes another round of panic. Keith is amused. “For geniuses, they can’t lie for their lives.”

“I know, right?” Lance snickers, gently laying a hand on Keith’s head and scratching.

A few months back, Keith would’ve short-circuited at the contact before punching Lance in the face. Hell, that’s exactly how it happened the first time Lance got curious and touched Keith’s hair. After explaining that Lance likes playing with hair and he does it with everyone, Keith slowly warmed up to the soft touch. It’s therapeutic, and with his innate Galra instincts, that’s like a very much needed thing he had been starved off his whole life.

Maybe Keith positioned himself near Lance for that very reason several times (and was never let down). Maybe he loves the feeling of long, slender fingers carding through his hair like he’s a cat.

Is he a cat? _No_.

Does he want to be petted? … yes.

So now as Lance brushes his dark locks absently, a fingernail scratching along his scalp, Keith melts into it, digging his face closer to Lance’s leg.

Lance, still, isn’t paying attention and Keith is glad for that. He is usually mortified at his neediness but after the first time Keith practically purred and Lance laughed, the Cuban realized Keith didn’t feel comfortable, so he apologized. Never repeated it.

It wasn’t too surprising that Keith developed feelings for him along the way.

Hunk finally relents on how to use the Magic Ball. “There’s a spot you’ve gotta press underneath the ball, speak close to it like it’s a microphone.”

Lance searches for the button and clicks on it. The screen clears up from its previous answer and waits. He leans close and asks, “does Keith want to touch my butt?”

Keith glares at him but it’s not heated. He’s still enjoying Lance’s ministrations on his hair.

A second later, the machine beeps and Lance whoops victoriously. He shoves it in Keith’s face, and he has to blink to read the symbol.

Puzzled, Keith looks up. “I don’t understand the word.”

Lance looks too smug. “It says, ‘he’s dying to.’”

“Oh, hell no!” Keith replies, cheeks turning red. “That’s lying!” he drags Lance’s hand down with the ball and shouts into it, “you’re lying! That’s not true!”

“Keith, it won’t reply,” Hunk says slowly. “It’s a Magic 8-Ball.”

Embarrassed, Keith grabs the ball and studies the symbol before referring to the tablet. His face goes redder when he finds out it means ‘yes.’

Lance pinches his cheek. “Aw, it’s alright, Keith!”

Keith snaps his teeth and Lance shrieks, pulling his hand back. He tosses the ball to Pidge and she deftly catches it. “Your turn.”

Pidge hides a smile as she presses a button and speaks into the ball, “does Keith love Lance’s ass?”

A cushion flies and hits Pidge in the face. The girl falls back and the ball flops from her hand to the floor. Everyone pauses. They didn’t hear a crack or anything that would tell it broke, but they still lean forward to see the screen face up.

It beeps once and then shows the symbol for ‘yes.’

Screeches fill the air as Keith lunges at Pidge. The girl swiftly crawls behind Hunk, screaming at the murderous face of the Red Paladin, and Hunk and Lance are laughing loudly.

Just when Keith makes a grab for Pidge’s hair, Lance is tugging him away, shaking with laughter as Keith struggles like an angry cat, scowling and pointing a finger dangerously. “Watch your back, you gremlin!”

Pidge has the sense to shudder. A threat from Keith doesn’t go lightly.

“Alright, you rage monster,” Lance chuckles as he hauls Keith back onto their couch, letting him lay on his lap comfortably to run his fingers through his hair. Slowly, Keith’s expression of rage softens until he’s only red-faced but silent, glowering.

Hunk picks up the Ball and inspects it cautiously. “I think that’s enough for today.” He places it on the table in the center and ushers Pidge out. “Break time’s over. I need you in the kitchen, you’ve been putting off your duty for weeks.”

Pidge groans but then she follows him out, leaving Lance and Keith alone in the lounge.

Keith relaxes into Lance’s lap, curling up as drowsiness hits him. He yawns. “I don’t wanna touch your butt,” he says quietly.

Lance snorts. “Okay, buddy, why don’t you rest a bit?”

“M’not tired.”

He receives a poke to the cheek. Lance’s fingers drag from the top of his ear backwards, scratching softly to make Keith hum pleasantly. “Stop training so much.”

“Hm, okay.”

Keith doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until sometime later when he rouses himself awake. There is a stiff pain in his neck and a weight on his head, and when he shifts, he finds Lance’s hand resting there. He spends a moment too long tracing Lance’s palm and fingers before settling it aside. Looking up, Lance has fallen asleep in his sitting position, head leaning against the back of the couch. He is snoring.

Half-asleep, Keith looks around the room and spots the Magic Ball settled innocently on the table. There is a moment of hesitation where he looks back to make sure Lance is sleeping before he carefully takes the Ball.

He stares at it.

This is stupid. It really shouldn’t matter.

Keith’s finger still finds the button at the bottom of the Ball. He clicks it and his breath hitches as the screen lights up in its faint yellow hue.

Leaning forward, Keith whispers, “does—does Lance like me back?”

His heart is already thudding ferociously as he waits and wait and waits, watching the dots on the screen shift around teasingly, and then.

Then they join up together to form a few symbols.

Keith quickly refers it to the tablet near him.

_‘Depends on the color of your socks’_

He checks his socks before pressing the button to say, "grey."

A second later the beep sounds, and when he checks the translation, it reads: 'Wouldn't you like to know?'

Keith almost flings the ball into the table. "That's why I asked, you stupid fucking piece of-" he sucks in a deep breath, pulls any calming thoughts to the center of his mind, and exhales. He's arguing with a junk of metal. 

And yet...

He shouldn’t be as disappointed as he feels. It’s a piece of technology after all. It doesn’t know better.

It’s stupid.

Setting the Ball back in its position, Keith turns so he’s facing Lance’s stomach, and when he looks up, he sighs longingly.

_It’s stupid._

Quietly, Keith brings Lance’s hand to rest in his fluffy hair before he falls asleep.

Someone shakes him. Keith groans, mumbling words he doesn’t understand himself. He feels a nice pressure on his head, moving and playing with his hair, and it helps Keith wake up with a drowsy smile.

He finds Lance looking down at him, a grin on his lips.

“Lance?” he rasps, brows knitting.

Lance is holding something over his face, and when Keith blinks to concentrate, blood rushes to his cheeks.

In Lance’s hand is the Magic Ball, and the screen says:

Well, why don’t you guess?


End file.
